


Call Of The Ocean

by ready_to_kick_some_ass



Series: FitzSimmons AUs [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Mermaid Jemma, Romance, Soldier Fitz, World War II, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ready_to_kick_some_ass/pseuds/ready_to_kick_some_ass
Summary: The young mermaid Jemma saves the Scottish soldier Fitz from drowning, after his ship was destroyed in a battle in World War II.Altough Jemma's family made bad experiences with humans and she was told to avoid them, she can't help but being fascinated by Fitz.She starts to ask herself if maybe not all humans are bad. Soon she's torn between her father's strict rules and her curiosity.At the same time Fitz can't forget the face of his mysterious savior. He hopes to see her again.





	1. Rescued

**Author's Note:**

> I actually never wrote an AU.  
> I read them occasionally, but I'm not a great fan of them.  
> Well here I am, writing a Mermaid AU.  
> I had a terrible plot bunny. 
> 
> I hope you like the story a bit. Writing it made me very emotional.

_Once, the great sea was calm and peaceful, full of hidden wonders._  
_The creatures of the ocean lived in natural harmony, always keeping the balance._  
_The mermaids were the rulers of the world underwater._  
_They were capable of magic, supposed to be protectors and healers._  
_It was a perfect symphony._

_But then the humans came, with their ships and weapons.  
With their war. _

_They didn’t care for magic or wonders.  
They claimed the ocean for their violent purposes, just like they claimed land and air. _

_The residents of the ocean watched stunned, as the humans killed each other with a brutality, that was unknown to the world so far._

_Before they died, they bleed and they screamed._

_And the ocean screamed with them._  
  
*

Jemma quickly moves through the clear water.  
Her arms are pressed flat to her slender body, her strong fin manoeuvring her through narrow passages between massive cliffs.   
Not quick enough.

She won’t be on time …

Jemma knows how much her father hates unpunctuality.

She shouldn’t have stayed with Morana that long.  
But the elderly mermaid, known everywhere as wise and experienced healer, had promised to teach her some new secrets.  
And as always when Jemma listened to Morana in awe, time passed by too quickly …

It became late and now she will have to listen to her father complaining – again.

She sighs and swims even faster  – but suddenly her sharp senses give alarm.

 _Oh no_ , she thinks, anxiety starting to fill her heart. _Not again …_  
  
She can feel the battle, before she reaches it.  
The water trembles and groans around her like in pain, while there are violent explosions over and under the surface. A group of dolphins swims past Jemma, their eyes wide with panic.  
However, she doesn’t stop.  
She will just swim past this battle as quickly as possible.

Grimly, she hurries through water, that is suddenly heavy, tempestuous and full of things that don’t belong there.  
Wreckage, oil and blood.  
And suddenly, the water in front of her is breached by something heavy.   
She stops startled. Her eyes widen, as she sees what caused the irregularity.

It’s a human.  
A man.

He floats in front of her, his lifeless body gently swinging.  
Blood comes from a wound at his head, forming into a red cloud.

Jemma looks at the man’s still face.  
He can’t be much older than her.  
And he’s about to drown, she realizes nervously.  
_Humans_ , her aunt told her once, _can’t survive long under water. They always need air. That’s why they need strange masks when they go underwater longer. Without them, they would drown in a few minutes._

The young man in front of her has no such mask.  
And bubbles form in front of his slightly open mouth.

Jemma hesitates.  
She can hear the grave voice of her father in her ears.  
_Don’t ever come near to humans._  
_They’re bad, Jemma._  
_They fear what they don’t understand. And fear causes hate. They will always destroy what they can’t use for their purposes, because all they want in life is power and money. They are born like this …_

With the voice of her father comes the memories of her mother. Her mother, who was caught in a fishing net years ago. She was taken away by the humans and never came back.

The pain is still fresh and sharp in Jemma’s heart.

She looks at the human in front of her again.    
This one doesn’t look very threatening.  
He just looks vulnerable. Helpless. And so very young.  

She shakes her head.  
She can’t let this man die.  
It isn’t right.

Like everything and everyone, mermaids have their role in this world. Their role is healing and saving. Jemma saves dolphins from fishing nets, whales from getting hit by ships and gulls being caught in oil. She also has to help a drowning human, right? After all, they are living creatures and not even so different from mermaids.

Jemma makes her decision.

With a few flaps of her fin, she swims to the man, circling him.  
After a moment’s hesitation she grabs him under his shoulders and begins to swim to the surface, hoping it isn’t too late.  

When their heads breach the surface, she smells smoke and tastes fire on her tongue. She shudders, when she sees wreckage and bodies everywhere around them.    
  
Hastily she swims away from death and chaos, to somewhere calm, somewhere safe.  
Swims into a little bay, with clean water and an almost white beach.

When Jemma reaches more shallow water, she carefully pushes the man on the beach, until only his feet are in the water.

She sits down beside him, careful to leave her lower body in the water.  
She stares at the human.  
Somehow she can’t help but being fascinated.  
She has never seen a human this close before.  
His legs are what fascinates her the most.  
_This is the reason, why they can walk, and we can’t,_ she thinks.  
Although she heard that there’s magic that can … but she doesn’t know for sure and it doesn’t matter now.

Time goes by.  
The human man still lays motionless in the sand.     
Worried Jemma lets her gaze wander over his face.  
He’s very pale.  
And there’s a slight shimmer of blue on his lips.

Just as she fears it might have been too late for him, the human coughs violently. A trickle of water flows from the corner of his mouth.  
Jemma holds her breath, as his breathing changes from flat to strong and even.  
His fingers twitch in the sand.    
And then he opens his eyes.  
They are bright blue and slightly glassy.

He blinks into the sunlight, groaning quietly.  

Jemma watches wide-eyed, how he raises a trembling hand to touch his wounded head, his face contorting in pain.

She realises that it’s time for her to leave. The human is safe now. There’s no need to stay.    
And he isn’t supposed to see her.  

But somehow, she can’t move.  
She can’t tear her gaze away from his face.  
And from his eyes, that are like the sea.

She can’t move and what she fears – or somehow secretly hopes? – happens.

The man’s eyes fall on her.  
They widen in surprise.  
He opens his mouth.  
“Who … who are you?”, he asks confused.

Jemma tilts her head to one side. His voice is a bit hoarse, but light and warm.  
She likes it.

“You are … beautiful”, he whispers, a soft smile spreading slowly on his face. “Are you an angel?”

He reaches for her with his trembling hand.  
Jemma flinches.  
Suddenly she realizes what she’s doing. Shock replaces her curiosity. He can't know what she is, can't see all of her - or he may tell other humans and her family might be in danger. Again. And she would be to blame for it.  
No.  
She can't let that happen.  
  
She finally manages to tear her gaze from his eyes.  
After a last glance, Jemma glides back into the ocean, swimming away as fast as she can, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.

*

“Jemma”, her father looks at her, his chin raised, his arms crossed over his bare chest. “Where have you been, daughter? I was worried.”

Jemma looks aside, biting her lip.  
“I … I helped a dolphin that was tangled, um, in an abandoned fisher net”, she stammers.

Her father doesn’t look convinced at all.  
“Don’t lie to me”, he says the next moment, anger and disappointment filling his grey eyes.

Jemma sighs. “I’m sorry … I … I went to visit Morana. And then, when I swam back, there was another battle. I just wanted to swim past it as quickly as possible. But … suddenly there was this human man … he fell into the water right in front of me and he … he was hurt and unconscious. I had to help him, father. I couldn’t let him drown in front of my eyes!”

Her father’s eyes widen. The stunned surprise in them quickly changes into pure anger.  
“You helped a human?”, he growls. “How dare you? After everything I told you about those depraved creatures, you go and help one of them? Did you forget my lessons? They are bad, Jemma!”

“Maybe not all of them”, Jemma whispers carefully.    
She remembers the human man’s blue eyes.  
Remembers his smile.  
She didn’t feel fear or suspicion, while looking at the man.  
She felt something entirely else.  
Something warm …  
  
Her father draws in a sharp breath.  
“Humans killed your mother!”, he calls out and Jemma flinches.  “They kill us, they kill animals, they even kill each other. They destroy the balance! They are better when they’re dead! A dead human can’t murder one of us or destroy another part of our home.” He looks away. “I’m very disappointed in you. I forbid you to come near this human man or someone else of his kind again. If you do, I will have to punish you. Even if you are my only daughter. I can’t tolerate this behaviour … I have to keep our family, our tribe, safe. And you have to do that too. Don't forget that."

“Father”, Jemma whispers startled, but he turns away from her.

She waits a moment, hoping the coldness would disappear between them, but it doesn’t.  
Finally, she swims away, crying bitter tears.

 

~

 

Not for the first time, Fitz asks himself, if he’s dead and in heaven.

He has never really believed in God.

But this is too good to be true.  
  
He’s lying on a beach, under a bright blue sky. Around him nothing but beautiful nature.  
The water in front of him is light and calm.

There’s no war.  
No weapons, no enemies, no killing, no dead friends.

He shudders, when he involuntarily remembers the battle.  
It has been his first.  
He just turned old enough to be drafted.  
And was thrown on the ship after a ridiculously short preparation.  
The generals didn’t even pretend they didn’t see him and the other newcomers as cannon fodder.  
  
The battle was worse than every nightmare he ever had about war.   
It was horrifying.  
Apparently, what his friend Lance once wrote in one of his rare letters, was true.  
_You can’t prepare yourself for it. You can’t_ , Lance wrote. His handwriting crooked, like he was in a haste. _You can just stumble into it, and then you have to decide in a second, what you will do: Will you fight or will you just try to survive as long as you can?_

As soon as the battle began, Fitz did the second thing: He was just trying to survive.

He didn’t even fire his weapon once.  
He just stood frozen in place for a moment, staring into the void, until one of his comrades had shook his shoulders, screaming into his face to finally do something, to finally _move_. The next moment a bullet had pierced the other man's head. And this finally pulled Fitz out of his  paralysis. He had tried to find a place to hide.

Then the ship got a direct hit.  
Everything around him was raging fire.

Fitz remembers being thrown backwards from the force of the explosion, remembers a sharp pain as his head made contact with something solid and then he was falling.

He hit the surface of the water.

And then – nothing.

Nothing but darkness around him, until he awoke here on the beach, until someone’s face, a beautiful face hovered above him …  
Was that really true?  
He isn’t sure anymore.

Fitz groans, when another wave of pain rushes through his head.  
He tries to move every part of his body, relieved, when everything seems to be alright.  
After a moment, he stands up, swaying slightly.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp gasp behind him.  

Fitz flinches, turning his head.  
An elderly woman in a simple, grey dress stands in front of him, a basket full of flowers in her hands. She tilts her head, the surprise in her eyes quickly changing to worry.  
She walks towards him, a careful smile spreading on her wrinkled face.

“What happened to you, son?”, she asks, coming to a halt in front of him.

Fitz swallows. “I’m not sure”, he says nervously. “I was in a battle on the sea. My ship was hit, there was an explosion, I was thrown overboard and suddenly … I was lying here on the beach.”

“Ah.” The elderly woman smiles thoughtfully. “You were lucky. Someone thought you’re worth to be saved.”

Fitz swallows. He looks around and then lowers his head.  
“I don’t know what to do”, he says quietly.

The woman nods. She looks him up and down, her gaze lingering on his bloody head.  
“Come with me. Your wound needs attention. And you need to get out of those wet clothes," she finally says softly, taking one of his hands into hers.  

Fitz hastily shakes his head, groaning when the movement caused a slight wave of nausea.  
“I can’t … I have to go back. I have to fight with my comrades.”

The woman sighs. Suddenly her eyes are painfilled.  
“Don’t be stupid, son. Do you want to die? Waste your life for this war? My husband and my two sons did give their life for it. They eagerly ran into their deaths, thinking they would die for some honourable reason. But all they died for is pointless killing that goes on and on until one side is finally tired enough to give up. Come on, now, I live in a small hut far away from all the fighting … they will never search for you there …”

“I don’t know”, Fitz says helplessly.  
He thinks of his father, who died at the front a few months ago.  
He always used to talk about war like it was the ultimate chance for a man to prove his worth.  
He was obsessed with it.  
He also never hid, that he was disappointed in Fitz, who he thought as weak and too emotional. He used to call Fitz worthless and useless.  
But he seemed to look forward to Fitz reaching the age to be drafted …    
“Maybe you’re at least good for killing bloody Nazis”, he had grumbled, looking at Fitz with the usual open disappointment in his icy blue eyes.  
But his mother had cried and told him, “Please don’t lose your heart there, Leo. Don’t lose yourself and the good man you are. War is cruel and merciless. You are none of this.”

After all, she had been right.  

Fitz wasn’t made for war.

Obviously.  
  
He finally follows the elderly woman, in his head still the image of the beautiful young woman who was there when he woke up.  
He’s sure she was there.

Wide open, brown eyes and alabaster skin.  
An angel from the ocean.

*

After the elderly woman – she tells him her name is Mariah - cleaned and bandaged Fitz’s wound, she makes him scrambled eggs. She has her own hens. They are living in a sad, half-ruined stable.

“I could fix this for you”, Fitz says, glancing over at the stable through the window. “I’m quite good at fixing things.”  
_Fixing and creating things is what I wanted to do, not killing_ , he thinks bitterly.  
He looks at his hands, smiling sadly.  
“I wanted to be an engineer. Before the war …”

“You can still become one”, Mariah says calmly. “You can stay here, until this war is over.”

Fitz swallows. He still can’t help but feeling like a coward, running away instead of going back fearlessly facing other battles.  
“Do you know what their punishment for deserting is?", he asks bitterly.

Mariah scoffs, shaking her head. “They will think that you died with all those other poor soldiers. Just another faceless young man they have to put on their endless lists of victims. We are in the middle of nowhere. No one ever comes here."

Fitz thinks of his mother.  
His heart fills with sadness, when he imagines, how she opens the letter every mother fears to get one day.

He realizes that he has to make a decision now.  
Either he goes back to die in some battle, hit by a bullet or ripped apart by a grenade, or he stays here, hiding, breaking his mother’s heart.

He sighs, hiding his face in his hands.  
Is he selfish when he chooses life? When he chooses to not be another pawn on the chess field of the warlords?

Or is this his second chance?

Maybe …

His thoughts wander back to the moment he woke up.  
To the young woman sitting beside him.

He swallows.  
“There was someone with me at the beach”, he says. Mariah at him attentively. “A young woman. Brown eyes and long hair. But she suddenly was gone. I don’t know …”

Mariah smiles thoughtfully.  
“She must be a mermaid.”

“A mermaid?”, Fitz raises his head, frowning skeptically. “But … aren’t they just fairy-tales?”

Mariah shakes her head. “They are real. They do exist and they live in hidden caves in the open sea, caring for all its residents. They know magic and are experts at healing. But sadly they learned to fear and hate humans.” She sighs.

Fitz thoughtfully eats the scrambled eggs.  
Could it be?  
Could the young woman be a mermaid?  
Was he saved by a mythological creature he didn’t think to be more than just a legend told by drunk sailors?

He has to find her. Has to see if it’s true.

“So are you going to stay here?”, Mariah asks him. She sounds almost hopeful.

Fitz hesitates.  
His head, filled with the memories of his father’s words, says no.  
But his heart screams yes.  
And he finally follows the advise of his loved mother. He listens to his heart.

“Yes”, he says softly.

Mariah nods, smiling brightly. “When you’re finished, I will show you your room”, she says.

Fitz exhales, looking down at his now empty plate. He feels a rush of gratefulness towards the elderly woman.  
“How can I thank you for your help and kindness?”, he asks her.

Mariah smiles sadly.  
“Company. Company is, what I need. I’m lonely. My half feral cats and my hens can’t give me comfort, when I’m crying over my dead husband and sons. You need a place to hide and heal, I need someone who keeps me busy, who distracts me from the feeling that there’s nothing left to live for.”

Fitz swallows.  
“I can do that”, he says. “And I will fix your stable. I will fix whatever needs fixing.”

They look at each other, sharing a smile.  
Two damaged souls, glad to have found each other.

*  
  
“Here”, Mariah leads him into a small room. A bed, a desk and a chair. The window shows a snippet of the coast.  
“This was once my oldest son’s room”, Mariah explains. “You can have it. I know it's not much. But I hope it’s enough.”

“It’s all I need”, Fitz says. “Thank you.”

She smiles, laying a hand on his cheek. “You actually look a lot like him”, she says quietly. “But you are not him, I know that. I’m not out of my mind. Just … forgive me, when I might suddenly burst into tears. I’m just a grieving mother, I can’t help it.”

He lays his hand on hers. “It’s alright. I’m sorry for your loss. You can talk to me whenever you want. I’m a good listener. At least my mother said so. More a listener than a talker, actually.”

She smiles at him.  
“You’re a good boy”, she whispers. “Way too good for this war. Too good to be another body on a battlefield. I’m glad the mermaid saved you. Watch out. You might see her again. They are curious. But careful. You will have to show her, that she can trust you.”

Fitz nods thoughtfully.  
“I will try”, he says.  
He still isn’t sure if he believes his savior to be a mermaid, but he will definitely look out for her.

She is his last thought, when he falls asleep later.  
The last thing he sees in front of his eyes, are her wide open, shining brown eyes.  
The eyes of a beautiful soul.


	2. Follow Your Heart (And Nothing Else)

* * *

After the argument with her father, Jemma hastily swims to her favourite retreat: a ship wreck on the ground of the ocean, caught between cliffs and beautiful coral reefs.  
A few tiger sharks are hunting there, moving through the holes in the ruins, looking at her curiously from time to time.

She’s still crying.  
Never before has her father looked at her like this … With this cold, disappointed glance.  
She feels horrible, although she still thinks saving the human man was the right thing to do.

When the tears finally subside, she swims to a deep hole in the ship’s bow, where she hid a chest with some things she found while exploring the ocean. Human things. She knows too well, that this would make her father angry too, but she needs distraction.  

She takes the chest out of the hole, opening it.

Carefully, she lets her finger glide over the things in there. Some golden coins, so old that their glimmer has long died.  A hairbrush. A broken mirror. And her favourite piece, a music box with a dancing girl on it. She knows that this thing is supposed to make music, to lull human babies into sleep. Morana told her.

She looks at the figure in amazement. It looks like it’s real. Someone really made an effort.

She sighs.

The humans may destroy everything around them, yet, they are also building amazing things.  
They can’t only be destroyers.  
They have hearts and souls.  
And they _love_ , don’t they?  
They love …  
So how can they be all bad?

“Jemma,” a voice suddenly says behind her, ripping her from her thoughts.

Jemma startles, quickly putting the toy back in the box. She turns around, seeing one of her cousins in front of her.  
“Ava,” she says coolly. “What are you doing here? Did father order you to follow me?”

Something like pain flits over her cousin’s face.  
“Don’t be silly, Jemma,” she says quietly. “I’m just worrying about you. Exactly like your father.”

Jemma makes a disbelieving noise.

Ava sighs, moving to sit down beside Jemma.  
She clears her throat. “Your father is completely distraught. He’s scared about you, Jemma. He already lost your mother. He can’t lose you too,” she says, laying a hand on Jemma’s shoulder. “You have to try to understand him. He’s responsible for the safety of our tribe. He’s just doing what he has to do, while trying to be a good father to you, you understand?”

Jemma sighs. She lowers her head, but she mumbles, “Yes. I understand.”

“Look, I think it was brave of you, to save this human man,” Ava says seriously. “I understand why you did it. But … you have to promise me, that you won’t come near humans ever again, alright? They are dangerous, Jemma. You … you are young. You still have to see and learn a lot. But I … I saw and heard a lot of what they are capable of. What they do to other living beings. What they do to mermaids and mermen they catch. Please, Jemma,” she takes Jemma’s hands in hers, looking her in the eye intensely. “Promise me …”

Jemma swallows. Her heart clenches as she sees the fear in her cousin’s eyes.  
“I promise,” she whispers.

Ava nods relieved, letting go of her.  
“Now come with me. Back home.”  
She stretches out a hand.

Jemma looks at it for a moment, then takes it with a deep sigh.  
She lets Ava lead her out of the wreck back into the open sea.

*

Her father hugs her tightly, breathing her name, his voice slightly trembling.

Jemma closes her eyes, leaning into his touch, feeling his familiar aura all around her.  
“I’m sorry, father,” she whispers. “I promise it won’t happen again.”

He sighs, backing away from her, to look her in the eye, laying his strong hands on her shoulders.  
“I have to apologize too. I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you, daughter. I talked to Ava. She’s right to say that you’re young … and your heart is full of sympathy for all living creatures. I was just … I was so scared. I can’t lose you too, Jemma. I can’t.”

She nods, swallowing as she sees the intense fear and love in his stormy grey eyes.  
“I know … Forgive me. I didn’t want to worry you,” she says softly.

Her father nods, smiling at her.  
“It’s alright. We shall not let anger and fear taking away our capability of understanding and forgiving.” He kisses her on the forehead, then looks her in the eye, smiling. “You’re getting prettier every day now, you know? My daughter is growing up. I will be so proud of you, when you are ready to take your rightful place on the thrown, being the queen this tribe needs.”

She returns his smile. But she has to force it on her face. Because suddenly, her heart feels heavy …

*

Jemma leaves the cave, a strange feeling making her throat clench.  
She wants to go back to her wreck. Or better, to Morana.  
Maybe the healer can show her something new, distract her from her confusing thoughts and emotions …

But outside, someone’s waiting for her.  
It’s her aunt Calliope. A muscular mermaid, due to her role as the guard of the king’s throne. She’s a strong warrior. But she’s also difficult. Jealous and quarrelsome … Jemma never got along with her.  
She looks at Jemma from above, her green eyes hardly hiding her disgust. Jemma shudders.

“You,” Calliope snarls. “I always knew you would bring trouble.”

Jemma glares at her, not saying anything. It would just lead to an argument. She doesn’t have the nerve for it right now.

“You know, princess,” Calliope says, emphasizing the _princess_ spitefully, “I will keep an eye on you. You know what the punishment for being with humans is, don’t you?”

Of course Jemma does.  
It’s burned into her mind, since she saw someone receiving exactly this punishment for talking to a sailor in the night, telling him about the secrets of the ocean …  
Exile.  
Forever.

Calliope smiles coldly.  
“You should just accept your place and the role you’re supposed to play. Like everyone else here does. You’re the only daughter of our king. You’re a princess. You will marry a worthy merman, ruling the tribe with him. This is your fate. Accept it. Then everything will be easier.  
Or,” she adds, her eyes sparkling in mischief, running a hand through her long, reddish hair. “You can risk it all. I wouldn’t mind that much, you know? After you, I’m the next in the line of succession. And you now what that means …”

Jemma gasps, shocked at the mermaid’s barely hidden greed for power. It makes her speechless.

Calliope glares at her one last time, then swims away, leaving behind a bitter silence.

Jemma watches after her, her heart beating wildly in her chest.  
_I will keep an eye on you ..._  
That sounded like a threat.  
No. It _is_ a threat.

Jemma sighs sadly.  
She knows they are all right.  
Ava, her father, even Calliope.

She’s part of the balance.  
Her future is predetermined since her birth. And she has to follow this path, for the sake of her family and the safety of their tribe.  
She knows.  

But deep in her heart, she feels torn …

  
*

“You’re distracted, girl,” Morana says not unkindly, moving her fingers carefully over the nasty burned skin of a giant blue whale, laying in front of her patiently, quietly moaning from time to time. “What's the matter?”

Jemma sighs. She hands Morana a certain coral, that helps to numb pain, and shakes her head. “It’s complicated.”

Morana smiles faintly, spreading the coral on the wound. “I see. It makes your aura all heavy and unruly. So it really has to bother you a lot.”

“I’m sorry,” Jemma says, lowering her head. “If I disturb you in your work, I can leave …”

“No, it’s alright. Stay. Watch me,” Morana says calmly.  
She frowns in concentration, breathing in deeply a few times. Jemma observes in stunned fascination, as her hands start to glow in a light blue. She moves them over the wound a few times, until the burned flesh is covered in new skin, leaving only a faint scar. The light disappears, Morana opens her eyes again, her breath slightly irregular.   

The whale hums. It sounds relieved. His soft, black eyes focus on Morana, reflecting her face.

Morana smiles.  
“You’re ready to go,” she tells the blue whale, and adds something in his own language, that Jemma can’t understand. Not yet. She hasn’t even perfectioned the complicated sound system of dolphins. Sometimes she feels like she’s slow, too slow, there’s so much to learn about the ocean world … But right now, her thoughts are too distracted to concentrate on her surroundings.

“Tell me what troubles you, girl,” Morana finally says, after the whale left, moving slowly to the open sea. “For being able to use your inner magic, your mind has to be empty and calm. Otherwise you won’t find the energy hidden in your heart and soul. Tell me, what is it that’s going on in your mind?”

Jemma hesitates.  
She knows she can trust the elderly healer. But still …  
She decides to start with a more generel question.   
“Sometimes I wonder … why do we think that all humans are bad? We don’t even know them. Yet we judge them without giving them a chance to prove us wrong. But … I can’t believe they are born bad. Maybe things happen to them, that makes them do bad things? I just feel like it’s wrong to treat them like they are all the same …”  
  
Morana looks at her attentively, her eyes, which are of an odd yellow-green colour, fixating Jemma’s, searching for the reason for her question.  
“You met one,” she finally states. “A human man. He’s in your thoughts. And … ah, in your dreams …”

Jemma swallows. She feels exposed. Although she vaguely knows about Morana’s more hidden powers, it’s still scary to experience them herself.  
“I saved him from drowning,” she says defiantly, realizing it sounds like a defence. “I couldn’t let him die in front of me. I thought that’s what we’re supposed to do. Saving lifes.”

Morana smiles.  
“I bet your father wasn’t thrilled,” she says thoughtfully.

Jemma sadly shakes her head.

“And now you’re conflicted. Of course you are. Not everyone would have saved this human. In the moment you decided to help him, you did something remarkable: you created an invisible bond between you and him. He saw you and you saw him. You didn’t feel scared. You didn’t feel threatened. And now you’re questioning what your father and the others tell you about humans,” Morana says. “And you would like to see him again, don’t you?" She concludes.

Jemma swallows. She hesitates. But she knows it would be pointless to lie to Morana.  
“Yes,” she whispers.  
“And I feel guilty," she adds. "Because I don’t want my family to worry about me or be angry at me. But … Somehow I feel like I have to. I have to see him. I don’t even know why … I just know that I’m torn and I don’t know what to do.”

Morana looks at her seriously.  
“Jemma, you are by far my best student. You have everything, a healer needs. Patience. Curiosity. Kindness. But your most important strength is your heart. I can feel that it's pure and full of love. And it is trying to tell you what to do. Right now."

Jemma looks at her, utterly surprised.

Morana smiles.    
She moves closer to Jemma, laying both her hands on her cheeks.  
“Listen. At some point you will have to decide between satisfy your father and everyone else around you, or doing what gives yourself the happiness you are craving. Follow your heart, like you followed it, when you saved the human from drowning.”

Jemma swallows, nodding.

She leaves Morana, swimming through the ocean without a real aim for a while.

Morana’s words touched something deep in her …  
It’s true, she realizes sadly. There’s a difference between doing things to satisfy others or doing them to be happy.  
She doesn’t think she would be happy, sitting on a throne the whole day, like her father does. Receiving complaints, dealing with disputes, trying to prevent tribal fights. No. It’s not the life she’s dreaming of.

But _what_ is her dream?

She decides to try following Morana’s advice.

She tries to follow her heart …

 

*

 

Fitz stares at the calm ocean in front of him.  
He’s sitting in the warm sand, drawing circles into it, lost in his thoughts.  
The first night in Mariah’s hut has been calm. Peaceful.  
His sleep hasn’t been disturbed by nightmares or wailing alarm sirens, announcing bombers.  
For the first time since years, he feels truly refreshed, full of energy.  
It’s almost like there’s no war.  
Almost.

The memories in his head tell him otherwise.  
Memories of the battle he was in.  
Smoke, fire and blood everywhere.  
His comrade killed by a bullet in his head.  
The explosion.

He quickly shakes the pictures off.  
Instead, he lets his thoughts wander back to his mysterious saviour …  
A mermaid, Mariah is convinced.

A mermaid …

He thinks of the stories he heard about mermaids.  
He faintly remembers the story of The Little Mermaid, from the German author Hans Christian Anderson. His mother read it to him. He didn’t like it much. The thought of The Little Mermaid, losing her beautiful voice just because she wants to be close to someone who doesn’t even really loves her, made him cry.

He also remembers a sailor’s tale of the sirens, which use their powers to lure men into the water, drowning them.

He doesn’t think his saviour is like a siren.  
He also doesn’t think she is like The Little Mermaid.

No.  
She’s … different.  
Somehow he’s sure about this, although he doesn’t even really know her.

It’s strange.  
But … strange in an exciting way.

Fitz is ripped from his thoughts by a splashing noise.  
He looks up, frowning.

Suddenly, the water in front of him isn’t as calm as it was a second ago.  
It’s unruly now. It gets breached by something …  
And then she’s there.  
  
Fitz’s breath falters.  
“It’s true,” he whispers. “Oh my God. It’s true.”

She really is a mermaid.

Only her face and her shoulders are visible from where she looks at him out of the water. She looks almost human, he thinks. Her face pale, her lips a soft pink. Her long hazel hair falls smoothly over her shoulders. But when he looks closer, he sees the minor differences. Her ears are slightly pointed, and her pupils aren’t black circles, but oval. They remind him of a cat’s eyes.

Fitz swallows. How does one address a mermaid?  
He decides to just go for the usual introduction phrases.  
“Hello,” he says politely. “It’s nice to see you again.”

The mermaid tilts her head slightly at his voice, but she doesn’t say anything in return.

Fitz smiles carefully.  
“You saved my life,” he says. “Thank you.”

The woman in front of him just continues staring at him, water pearls slowly running down her elegant, long throat.

Fitz asks himself, if she can understand him. Do they even speak the same language?  
He hopes they do, he realizes. He really does.

After a moment's hesitation, he moves carefully, walking into the water slowly, until it reaches his thighs. He goes towards a rock in the water. The mermaid’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t move. She just watches his every movement, her body tense.   
Fitz sits down on the rock, letting his bare feet glide into the cool water. He’s closer to her now and can see, that there are sprinkles of gold in her hazel eyes, sparkling in the bright sunlight.

The mermaid looks up at him, her shoulders still tense.

“I won’t hurt you,” Fitz says, still smiling.

Her eyes widen and suddenly there’s a spark of disapproval in them.  
“What makes you think _you_ could hurt me?” She asks coolly.

Fitz blinks. He feels like he has made a big mistake.    
“Sorry, I didn’t want to, um, offend you,” he says quickly.  

The mermaid frowns.  
“I accept your apology,” she says. “But you should know, that we are much stronger than humans. In fact, my great-grandfather once tore a human apart in the middle with his bare hands.”

Fitz swallows.  
“Um. That’s … impressive?” He says insecurely.

There’s a moment of silence between them.  
They both look each other in the eye, equally fascinated. Curious.  
And something … something in the air between them feels strange. It’s like an invisible connection. Loaded with a certain kind of expectant tension.  
  
“Why were you there?” The mermaid suddenly asks. “There on the ship? Do you like fighting? I know that humans fight a lot. Kill each other. Kill other living beings. Do you do that too?”

“No,” Fitz says quickly. “I was … I had to. You don’t have a choice. Not when there’s a war. As soon as you’re old enough you have to join the army.”

“You couldn’t just run away?” She asks doubtfully.  

Fitz shakes his head.  
“The punishment for running away is death,” he explains. “Me and my comrades? We can’t choose what happens with our lifes. We’re just pawns on a chess board. There are a few humans, men, who control what happens. They decide where we go, where we are fighting and where we are dying. It’s like a horrible game,” he says bitterly.

The mermaid seems to think about that for a moment. Finally she says, “The human war affects us too. We have very sensitive senses. The explosions make the water scream. It hurts a lot. It makes a lot of us sick. Some whales almost lose their hearing. Dolphins get hit by rubbles.”

“I’m sorry you have to suffer,” Fitz says quietly. “Just as you, I wish there was no war. I wish, people would stop fighting each other. Stop killing each other for nothing.”

She nods slowly. Something in her eyes changes. They are warmer now.  
“My name is Jemma,” she says.

“Jemma,” Fitz repeats, tasting the sound of the name on his tongue. “A beautiful name.”

She looks at him surprised. “You think so?”

“Yeah. I’m Fitz,” he says.

Jemma frowns. “Fitz? Is this really a name? Do all humans have such strange names?”

He smiles faintly. “No. My whole name is Leopold James Fitz. But I hate Leopold. And Leo is too close to it. So I go by Fitz.”

“Why do you hate your name?” Jemma asks surprised.

He hesitates.  
“My father … he wasn’t a nice man. He used to treat me like I’m worthless and weak. He used the name Leopold to address me and so it’s connected to his anger and disappointment. It hurts me to hear it … Even if it is long ago.”

Jemma nods thoughtfully.  
“You and your father have a difficult relationship?” She asks.

Fitz swallows. “We _had_. He’s death. He died in this war.”

“Oh. I’m sorry for your loss,” she tells him seriously. Then sighs.  
“My father … he’s very strict, but he’s … he’s a good father, you understand? He always worries about me. I shouldn’t be here. We aren’t allowed to talk to humans. Humans killed my mother. They destroy our home and don’t respect our rules and traditions,” Jemma explains him.  
“A lot of mermaids think that all humans are born bad. But … I’m not sure about this. And … I think I like _you_ ,” she adds carefully. “You don’t seem to be bad …”

Fitz swallows. He’s moved by her words.  
It’s a lot to process.  
And he’s surprised at how good it feels, to talk to Jemma.  
It feels natural.  
Like they would know each other for ages.  
“I like you too,” he says.

Jemma smiles brightly, seemingly pleasured by this revelation.  
The smile makes her hazel eyes sparkling and Fitz notices not for the first time, that she’s beautiful.  
He wants to tell her, but as he opens his mouth, Jemma suddenly flinches, making a surprised noise.

She tilts her head, closing her eyes in concentration, seemingly perceiving something Fitz can’t.

Finally she looks at him alarmed.  
“I have to go. Something … something happened,” she breathes. “Something bad, I think.”

She turns around.

“Wait!” Fitz calls.

She looks at him over her shoulder.

“Will I see you again?” Fitz asks hopefully.

Jemma’s eyes widen slightly. She hesitates.  
“Tomorrow when the sun settles,” she finally says softly. “Wait for me here.”

Then she’s gone.  
She leaves an unruly wave.

Fitz remains sitting on the rock, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.  
He just talked to a mermaid.  
And she said she likes him.  
  
He rubs his eyes, still feeling like he’s dreaming.  
But it’s real. Oh so real.

 _I will see her again_ , he realizes stunned. _Although she said it’s dangerous for her, she will come to see me again._

His heart fills with a whole new kind of joy.


	3. I Want To Be Free

When Jemma arrives at her tribe’s cave, she’s met with fierce, angry faces.

“What happened?” She asks, worry completely replacing the lightness that has filled her heart while talking to Fitz.

One of the mermen, a scarred warrior with a golden fin that was ripped in half in a battle against another merman years ago, looks at her, his eyes narrowing.  
“It’s Lusca. Your father, our king,” he says gravely. “He was attacked.”

“Attacked,” Jemma echoes, a bad feeling creeping into her heart. “By whom?”

“By humans,” another voice says coldly.  
Jemma turns around, seeing Calliope approaching. Her eyes are dark with rage.  
“They hurt him with their unholy fire weapons, ripped a hole into his chest, when he tried to save a whale. Monsters, you see? And _you_ dared to save one of them …”

Angry murmuring raises around them.

Jemma shakes her head in disbelief.  
She quickly turns around and swims into her father’s cave, needing to see that he will be alright.

Her father is laying on his rock bed, his eyes closed, his chest barely moving.  
His wound is covered in pain-relieving corals.

“Father,” Jemma whispers, slowly approaching him.

“Jemma,” Lusca sighs quietly, opening his eyes. “Come here, daughter.”

She swallows, quickly swimming to him, sitting beside him on the stone.  
Tears are burning in her eyes.  
He smiles up at her, raising a hand to lay it on her cheek.

“I’m hurt badly, daughter. I can feel death approaching me … Maybe this time, she won’t let me get away,” he says seriously.

“Don’t say that father,” Jemma pleads. She lays her hand on his, squeezing lightly. “Morana will arrive soon. She will help you. You’ll be alright.”

But Lusca shakes his head. “I’m not sure even Morana can defeat death this time, Jemma. Listen. After I’m gone, you will have to take your place on the throne. You will marry either Narang or Decian, it depends on who will win the traditional battle.”  
He smiles at her encouragingly.  
“I know you’re still young. But don’t be scared. You can do it. It’s in your blood.”

Jemma swallows.  
Her stomach drops.  
So is this the moment?  
The moment in which her dreams fade to dust in the water?   
Immediately, she feels ashamed for the selfish thought.   
All that counts now, is that her father will be alright again.   
  
Suddenly, Morana appears in the cave.  
“Make room for me, girl,” she says softly, her attentive eyes already wandering over the hurt king.

“Will he survive this?” Jemma asks her desperately.

Morana smiles at her.  
“Don’t worry. He’s strong. Now let me do my work.”

Jemma nods weakly.  
She leaves the cave, her head hanging.  
Outside, Calliope already waits for her, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Well princess, are you ready to take your father’s place?” She asks, with open spite in her voice.

Jemma shots her an angry glance.  
“He isn’t dead yet. Morana will heal him,” she says, trying to sound more hopeful than she actually is.

Calliope glares at her, suddenly smiling faintly.  
“Ah. Your hope … is it really for your father? Or do you hope you will still be able to roam the sea like a stray after this … going to the surface to see some of the humans that seem to fascinate you so much?”

Disgust and shock make Jemma almost cry again. It's almost as if Calliope has read her mind. Again, she feels ashamed.   
She doesn’t spend more energy on talking to Calliope.

Instead, she swims out into the open sea, to wait for news, feeling sad and scared.

*

“He won’t die,” Morana tells Jemma a little while later. “Not yet.”

Jemma looks at her, both relieved and questioning.  
“Not yet?” She echoes.

“The bullet has done a lot of damage to his body. I wasn’t able to remove all of it. He will at least live for another year. But he lost a lot of his strength. He won’t recover fully from it. And the wound will kill him eventually,” Morana explains sadly, holding Jemma’s hand.

Jemma swallows.  
A year …

She doesn’t quite know how she’s supposed to feel about this.

  
*

 

Fitz sits in the middle of Mariah’s hens, repairing the stable, lost in his thoughts.

He met a mermaid.  
The thought isn’t so strange to him anymore, than it was yesterday.

Mariah approaches him, her hands full of fresh vegetables from her small garden.

Fitz looks up at her, smiling.  
“I will be done soon,” he tells her. “This will endure the autumn storms for a few years I hope.”

“Thank you,” Mariah says. She looks at him attentively, smiling as she seems to discover something in his eyes.  
“Did you meet her yesterday?” She asks.

“Yes,” Fitz says, shaking his head in everlasting wonder. “And she really is a mermaid. She talked to me."

"Remarkable,” Mariah says. “Some sailors told me about how they’ve seen mermaids or mermen watching them from the ocean. But they never talked to them.” She tilts her head. “Will you see her again?”

Fitz smiles when he thinks of Jemma’s words.  
_Tomorrow when the sun settles down ..._

“Yes,” he breathes.

“Good,” Mariah says. “Maybe you will be able to show her, that not all humans are bad …”

Fitz is about to answer, when suddenly a somber blow breaks the silence of the day.  
The ground vibrates slightly.  
Fitz and Mariah flinch, looking at each other in alarm.  

“What was that,” Fitz says, standing up quickly, wiping his hands on his trousers.

Mariah sighs sadly. “The war. It comes closer again. Let’s hope that it will hold some distance.”

Fitz swallows. He thinks of Jemma and her tribe in the ocean, hoping they and the rest of the sea creatures will be alright. But he also can’t help thinking of himself.

“When they arrive here,” he mumbles. “They can’t see me.”

“I know. Don’t worry. We are so isolated here. There’s nothing to gain here. Certainly they will rather move to the larger villages and cities in the North. But if soldiers arrive here, we have to find a hiding place for you,” Mariah says, staring into the distance, where blow after blow can be heard now.

Fitz swallows.  
_Why_ , he thinks tiredly. _Why can’t the war be over already? How long will the suffering go on?_

*

Later, Fitz’s sitting at the beach again, watching the sunset.

It’s silent again.  
The world prepares to go to sleep.

Fitz watches the calm surface of the ocean, anticipation, mixed with slight worry, make his heart beat faster.

For a long moment he is afraid she wouldn’t come.

The sun sinks lower and lower, until the shadows make the sea look like dark blue velvet.

Right before Fitz loses the last bit of hope, Jemma dives up in front of him, approaching the beach slowly.

“Jemma,” he breathes. “It’s good to see you.”

“Fitz,” she says, smiling at him.

He frowns, when she comes even closer, and he can see her eyes, that are filled with a calm sadness.

“Is everything alright?” He asks her hesitantly.

Jemma shakes her head.  
“My father was hurt,” she explains. “By humans. They shot him.”

Fitz swallows.  
“I’m sorry,” he says, feeling strangely guilty, although he didn’t have anything to do with it.

Jemma sighs.  
“Fortunately, our healer Morana was able to save him. But … he is not as strong as he was before. And he will never recover fully from it. He still can rule the tribe for a year, Morana thinks.”

She lowers her head.  
“And when he dies, I will have to take my place on his throne, marrying the strongest merman in the tribe,” she says bitterly. “They will fight for me. And I will sit with one of them on this throne for the rest of my life.”

Fitz scratches the back of his head nervously. He notices that the thought of Jemma, sitting on a throne with a mermen isn’t at all appealing to him. It makes him feel somewhat … angry.  
“You don’t want to be a queen?” He asks her carefully.

“No,” Jemma says immediately, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t want to do what I’m told. I don’t want to think that everything, my past, my present and future, leads into one direction I have to follow. I want to be free.”

Fitz nods understandingly.  
He knows this feeling.  
“I want to be free too,” he tells her. “I don’t want to be forced to fight in a pointless war. I don’t want to be just another faceless body. I want to create important things. I want to help other people. What is it that you want to do?”

Jemma hesitates for a moment.  
Finally, she says, “I want to see the world. Not only the ocean. I feel like I’ve already seen every inch of it. I want to see everything. The forests and the mountains. The cities. There’s so much. And it’s all out there …”

“I would show it to you,” Fitz tells her seriously.

Jemma stares at him, her mouth slightly open in surprise.

Fitz smiles.

They look into each other’s eyes, feeling it again.  
A pleasant tension. A quiet longing in their hearts.  
It’s dangerous yet it feels wonderful.  
A marvel to discover.

*

They start to meet every evening at the same time.

Jemma always makes sure that she isn’t followed by anyone.

She feels as free and happy as she hasn't been for a long time.

Fitz and her, although separated through the gap between land and ocean, seem to complete each other in a marvellous way, that makes her heart flutter in joy and

They talk for hours, him sitting on a rock in the water, with his bare feet in the water, and Jemma leaning against the rock, while she's floating in the ocean.

They talk about their childhoods, which were so different.  
Jemma was raised as a princess. She learned early how to behave royally and how to rule other creatures, while at the same time being kind, wise and thoughtful.  
She learned about the rules of her tribe, the needs of the creatures of the ocean and her role in this whole, sensitive system.

Fitz talks about his mother with a warm, longing voice. He says that she raised him to be modest, patient and kind. But his father … when he comes to his father, his voice gets colder and his eyes fill with a certain kind of sad rage. His father had high expectances and Fitz couldn’t met them. His father tended to alcohol at some point and became abusive.  
Now he’s dead. Killed in the war Fitz escaped.  
And Fitz will never be able to confront him about everything.  
And Fitz lowers his head, when he tells Jemma, that he can’t tell his mother that he’s alive, because he would risk being discovered and executed for his deserting.  
Jemma feels sorry for him.  
Although her father is strict, she can be sure of his love and proudness. And she knows her mother loved her as well.

They talk about much more.

They never grow tired of it.

Jemma shows Fitz her fin.  
He looks at the green-blue scales on it in wonder, seeing how they sparkle in the last sunbeams.  
“Beautiful,” he breathes.  
It makes Jemma blush slightly.

She tells him a lot about the world underwater, while he tells him about the world of the humans.

And on one evening, Jemma finally asks Fitz to join her in the water.

At first, he hesitates.  
  
_Maybe_ , Jemma thinks, _because his last encounter with the ocean almost ended with his death._

But finally, Fitz strips his clothes, until he’s only in his underwear.

Jemma feels a strange warmth while watching him.  
_He looks good_ , she thinks.

She observes, how he makes some first steps into the cool water, shivering slightly.  
Then, he jumps right in with a gasp.

He appears right in front of her.  
“Hello,” he says, grinning.

Jemma chuckles. She feels her heart beat faster in her chest.

He’s so close …

They look into each other’s eyes for a moment.  
Then, Fitz takes one of her hands in it, squeezing it lightly.  
Jemma breathes in shakily.

She feels so warm and comfortable.

It’s all … perfect.

 

But the end happens in just a second.

One moment, Jemma holds Fitz’s hand, feeling his warm skin on hers, staring into his blue eyes, while they float in the water.

The next moment, there’s a surring sound and a spark in the air – and Fitz gasps, his eyes widening in shock, as his shoulder is pierced by a spear.

“NO!” Jemma screams, turning around to see Calliope right in front of her, her throwing arm still raised, her face contorted in angry triumph.

“I knew it!” She yells at Jemma. “Traitor!”

“What ... what have you done, Calliope,” Jemma stammers, looking at Fitz, who's wheezing, his eyes getting glassy. “Why …”  
She quickly pulls the spear out of Fitz’s chest, knowing that Calliope likes to coat her weapons in the poison of certain corals she finds in the darker parts of the ocean.    
She makes a desperate noise, as she sees the gaping wound, bleeding rhythmically into the ocean.

“No,” she whispers. “No …”  
Tears well in her eyes, as she holds Fitz up, so he doesn't go underwater. She sees his eyes slipping shut, hears him groaning in pain.

“Stop crying for this monster,” Calliope tells her, her voice full of disgust. “You’re weak, Jemma. You will never be able to rule the tribe. But now I don’t have to worry about that anymore, right? Your father will have to exile you. Finally, you will get what you deserve!”

Jemma feels anger mingling with the shock and worry for Fitz in her heart. She glares at Calliope. “He’s not a monster! He’s kind and he’s so much better than you! You’re blinded by your hate!”

Calliope makes a doubtful noise. She shakes her head, reaching out her hand.  
“Enough. Give the spear to me. I will kill this human for good and take you where you belong, so you can be punished for your betrayal!”

Jemma shakes her head. She takes the spear, breaking it in half. She throws the pieces away with a disgusted sob.

Calliope stares at Jemma, her eyes gleaming in open hatred.  
“You will regret this,” she snarls. “You will see what it means to disobey our rules and to dare to betray our people! You know, it would be better if you don’t even dare to come back!”

With that, she disappears back into the ocean.

Jemma makes a desperate noise.  
She quickly pulls Fitz back to the beach. When she lays him on the almost white sand, it immediately turns red around him.

“No, no, no,” Jemma whispers frantically, the tears blurring her vision. “Please …”

Fitz groans weakly, his eyelids flutter. The usual beautiful blue in his eyes is now dull. Pallid.   

“You have to hold on,” Jemma pleads, holding his face in her hands, “Please. You have to live …”

“Jemma,” Fitz whispers. A weak smile spreads on his face. “Don’t cry. I … I’m so glad I met you. I never … I never felt the way I felt when I was with you …”  
He coughs, his face contorting in pain.  
Speckles of blood appear on his lips.

“You can‘t die,” Jemma sobs. „You can’t leave me. Please …”

“Jemma,” Fitz whispers one last time. Then his eyes slip shut. His head lolls to the side.

“No!” Jemma screams desperately.

“What happened?”

Jemma raises her head frightened, as she hears the strange voice.  
She says an elderly human woman, quickly coming closer.  
Jemma’s instincts tell her to flee, but she can’t leave Fitz alone.  
  
She watches, as the woman sinks on her knees beside Fitz, taking off her apron, wrapping it around Fitz’s shoulder tightly.  
“He’s bleeding too strong,” she says, shaking her head. She looks at Jemma.  
“You’re a mermaid,” she says softly. “I know a few things about your remarkable abilities … Are you able to heal him with your magic?"

Jemma swallows.  
Her magic …  
She almost forgot about it.  
She looks at her hands.  
Uncertainty makes her throat clench.    
She never tried it herself … She just watched Morana.  
But …  
There’s Fitz.  
Fitz is laying in front of her, dying.  
She has to do something.

She remembers Morana’s words. She has to calm her mind ...  
Jemma swallows.  
I have to try …  
She breathes in deeply and tries to let every thought disappear from her mind, searching for the source of the magic in her.

Finally, she puts the already soaked apron aside, pressing both hands on Fitz’s wound.  
Her heart beats strong and fills with a strange new kind of warm energy, when she stares into his still face.  
_Come on …_  
And then, suddenly, blue light comes from her fingertips. First, it’s weak, but it grows stronger and brighter. Jemma groans, as she feels how the magic takes power from her body, letting it flow into her hands and to the wound.  
It works ….  
It really works …  
She watches breathlessly, sweat running down her face, as the wound starts to close under her hands.

As soon as it’s done, the blue magic is gone and she gasps, feeling drained, but also amazed at herself.  
She found the magic.  
She did it.

She raises her head, seeing the human woman staring at her, her kind eyes full of wonder.

Jemma swallows. She remembers the poison … She knows that healing magic can’t prevent it from spreading in the veins.  
“He’s still in danger,” she tells the woman. “The spear was poisoned. If the poison reaches his heart, there’s nothing we can do for him. I have to go, get a certain coral to make the poison leave his body. Will you stay with him?”

“I will,” The woman says, smiling softly at Jemma. “My name is Mariah. And you must be Jemma. He told me so much about you …”

Jemma almost starts crying again. She gives the woman a weak smile back.  
Then she looks down at Fitz, touching his cheek one last time.  
“I will be back soon,” she whispers. “Hold on …”

Reluctantly, she pulls away. She turns around, dives underwater and swims as fast as she can.

 

*

Morana listens to her rambling patentiely and nods immediately.  
She swims to her garden, pointing to a blue-red coral.  
“We need this,” she says.

Jemma quickly collects some of the corals, her breath hectic.

But when she’s finished, she hears a serious voice behind her.    
“Jemma.”

She turns around, seeing her father and Calliope.  
She swallows.  
“Father,” she whispers.

“Calliope told me everything,” he says, raising his chin. “Why daughter? Why did you betray me?”

Jemma shakes her head in desperation.  
“Please father, you have to understand me! He’s not like the humans you know. He’s a kind man. He doesn’t deserve to die. If you would try to see him from my eyes, you would understand! I saw him. I really saw him. And I … I want to continue meeting him. Because he makes me feel happy, father. He makes me feel whole in a new way. I can’t lose him. I won’t!”

His eyes widen slightly.  
“Daughter,” he whispers. “Are you telling me, that you have feelings for his human?”

Jemma closes his eyes for a moment.  
When she opens them again, she says, “Yes. I think so.”  
And it’s true, she realizes. She has feelings for Fitz.

Her father gasps.  
“But,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s a human …”

“Yes. Yes he’s human. And he is a good man. Now please let me go …”  
She moves forward, but Calliope blocks her way, looking at her, her eyes grim and dark.

“No. The human will die,” she says coldly. “And you will be punished. It’s all set, Jemma. Don’t try to fight it …”

But Jemma ignores her.  
She looks into her father’s eyes intensively.  
He seems confused but also sad.  
She sees him swallow heavily.

“Please father,” she whispers. “He’s dying …”

Lusca closes his eyes.  
“I see,” he says quietly. “I see …”

He opens his eyes again, glaring at Calliope.  
“Let her go,” he tells  the warrior, who looks at him in shock.

“You can’t be serious! She’s a traitor. She has to be punished,” she growls.

“I can’t punish her for being wiser than I’ve ever been or will ever be,” Lusca says and Jemma gasps in surprise. “She looked behind the curtain of hate and fear. She managed to open her heart and found something, that she can’t ever find here. Isn’t that right, daughter?”

“Yes,” Jemma whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” her father whispers, laying a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know how this story will end. And it scares me. But for now, I feel that you have to follow your heart. So do it.”

Calliope stares at them, speechless, her eyes a raging fire of disbelief.

But when Lusca looks at her strictly, she reluctantly moves out of Jemma and Morana’s way.

“Thank you,” Jemma breathes. “Thank you, father.”

“Go now. Be quick,” Lusca says seriously. “The poison spreads faster in human bodies and death doesn’t give them back easily.”

Jemma nods.  
She quickly hugs him one last time.  
Then she swims away, followed by Morana, while Calliope glares after them angrily.

*

Fitz lays in the sand lifelessly, his lips slightly blue.

The skin around his wound is almost black, dark lines spreading from it over his body.

Mariah looks at Jemma, when she pushes herself on the sand, her eyes wet.  
“He stopped breathing. I think he’s gone,” the human woman whispers.

“No,” Jemma breathes. “No!”  
She can’t move, shock and disbelief numbing her.

But then Morana shoves her aside. She lays the corals she brought on the wound, mumbling ancient words Jemma can’t understand.  
Jemma holds her breath, watching as the dark lines on Fitz's skin start to fade, until they disappeared.  
Morana falls silent. She looks at Fitz's face calmly, seeming to wait for something.

A silent moment passes, that seems like eternity to Jemma.

But then Fitz opens his eyes all of a sudden, drawing in a loud gasp.  
His body shakes and he sits up abruptly, breathing hectically.    

“Fitz!”  
Jemma wraps her arms around him, sobbing in joy.

He lets it happen, blinking in tired confusion.  
He lays a trembling hand on her shoulder.  
“Jemma …”

Mariah and Morana watch the scene in silence. Both elderly women sensing what’s happening here. Two souls found each other and are joining, forming a strong band that will outlast the threats and challenges of the future.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a native speaker and always grateful for being corrected! I'm constantly trying to improve my English, so please don't hesitate to tell me about mistakes. <3
> 
> Visit me on tumblr: [ready-to-kick-some-ass](https://ready-to-kick-some-ass.tumblr.com/) :)


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